Hot Water (19 page)

He tapped his fingertips together in an irritating rhythm. “Any ideas what to do about it?”

“Preemptive strike. Get some video of the other protestors enjoying your hospitality and get that out there first—so it will be clear that Vincent’s people staged it.”

“Good idea. Security can grab the footage from their cameras. Anything else?”

“There are two reasons people around here don’t like the plant—actually they boil down to one solution.”

“What’s that?”

I thought about the young couple I’d met with the protesters. “Jobs. Folks around here want a chance to make enough money to raise their families and keep them here. And that means jobs.”

“But we’ve hired locally as much as we can. You can’t exactly ask an out-of-work shrimper to man a nuclear reactor.”

“I understand. But most of the people who do work here—where do they live?”

“Most, up in Beaufort. Houses are cheap there right now. A few of the supervisors live down in Hilton Head.”

“Right. And that means a long drive either way.” I stood and gestured to the large-scale map spread out on the wall beside him. He swiveled his chair to follow my finger as I traced the path of the river as it led to the sound. “Most of this land on the other side of the river is for sale—probably at pretty good prices given how old the FOR SALE signs looked. Now, if you bought several parcels and developed them together, you could turn it into a nice community. Views of the sound or river, forest, easy access to the highway.”

“Ms. Palladino,” he sounded affronted, “we’re in the medical isotope business here, not real estate investment.”

“Think about it. You could create homes for your workers as well as work for the folks who already live here. How much is that kind of long-term public satisfaction worth to your company?” Not only would it provide jobs, it might help to revive the community, and Lord knew, from what I’d seen, Colleton Landing could use all the help it could get.

He pursed his lips, considering. “This housing slump is bound to end soon. Might make for a good investment. Worth it if it got the community off my back.” He nodded, a short jerk of his chin. “I’ll have my people look into it.”

“I also heard that you guys were supplying electricity to the surrounding area? Some kind of cooperative deal with the power company?”

“Morris set that up. We generate more than we can use. Could’ve sold it to Palmetto, but Morris got all soft-hearted and set this up—I was on the road, getting us capital, and he’s giving away potential profits.”

“Maybe it’s lucky he doesn’t have your business sense.” Jeez, I was starting to sound like Elizabeth, practically stroking his ego. But it worked. “Again, think of the community relations windfall.”

He nodded slowly. “Good work, AJ,” he said, sounding half-surprised. “I’m going to call a press conference in time for the noon news. No sense waiting—I’d like to share some good news with my investors for a change. You’d better get changed.”

“Me? None of this has to do with the environmental impact of the plant; you don’t need me up there with you.” I re-grouped. “I wouldn’t want to steal the spotlight or anything.”

“No worries there. You won’t be saying anything. I just want everyone to know you’re on my side.”

I blinked, uncertain of how to get out of this. Because even though I was willing to take his money for helping him, I was most definitely not on Owen Grandel’s side.

Then I thought about Floyd and Noreen and the other people I’d met like Elise and her husband. If it meant helping them, I could sacrifice a little self-esteem.

What could it hurt?

Totally demoralized after her conversation with AJ’s parents, Elizabeth drove to her house three blocks away. Her own parents had divorced when she was young, and although they both doted on her when she was with them, she’d never really felt a part of either of their lives as consumed as they had been by their careers. She’d learned the lesson so well that she’d grown up emulating them, putting her career before everything until she dared to raise her head long enough to see Hunter for who he really was and make a stand for herself.

It occurred to her that maybe her parents and the Palladinos weren’t so very different—different forms of obsession, maybe, but still so wrapped up in their own lives that they couldn’t see the living, breathing family that required their nurturing.

AJ wasn’t asking for much—and David wasn’t asking for anything except the love of his grandparents, the chance to finally have a family. Yet it was too much for them to give.

No wonder she and AJ were friends. Despite their disparate social backgrounds, they had a lot more in common than it initially appeared.

She pulled into the driveway of her house. Although it had been in her father’s family for generations, Elizabeth had never been here until after her father’s death. It was a Victorian painted sky-blue with an inviting wraparound porch. Elizabeth smiled every time she saw it and realized that it was hers. It was exactly like the houses she used to pretend her dress-up dolls would inhabit when she was a little girl. The house of her dreams.

Today it looked more like a home than ever. Ty and Nikki sprawled across the front steps, talking to Jeremy, who was watering the plants hanging from the porch roof and suffering from neglect.

“You get settled in all right?” she asked Jeremy, joining Ty on the steps without even worrying about getting her skirt dirty. What was a little dry-cleaning bill when she’d just lost AJ’s son for her? Nikki sensed her distress and rolled her head to one side so it slid beneath Elizabeth’s palm.

“Yes, thanks.” Jeremy seemed nervous, fiddling with the watering can even though he’d finished. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Just don’t run off—this house is the collateral for your bond.”

Whoops. She hadn’t meant to remind him of that. It’s just what was foremost in her mind—how much she’d risked on a person she barely knew.

He sank into the rocker beside the door, still clutching the watering can. His face collapsed as if the weight of his predicament had finally caught up with him. “It’s bad, isn’t it? They’re going to crucify me.”

“Don’t worry. That’s what you have me for,” she tried to reassure him but couldn’t muster the energy to lie convincingly.

“I know a few criminal attorneys,” Ty put in.

Elizabeth doubted Jeremy had the resources to afford one. “Let’s give it a day or so—the tox screen might help.”

“But who’s going to watch over Flora until then?” Jeremy asked.

“She’s not coming home until tomorrow, the doctors said. In the meantime, I asked AJ’s parents if they’d move into the summerhouse. Judge Mabry won’t let me care for David anymore—he thinks it’s a conflict of interest.” She explained about Masterson’s fight for visitation and how it had evolved into an emergency custody battle.

“I can’t imagine Frank or Edna leaping at the opportunity,” Ty said.

Elizabeth hung her head, concentrating on her fingers kneading Nikki’s thick coat. “They didn’t. I’m not sure what to do.”

“Maybe sending David to Masterson’s isn’t a bad idea,” Jeremy said. “Kid figures out how horrible the old man is, he might beg the judge to deny visitation.”

“I’m not sure how much stock the judge is going to put in a kid’s testimony compared to Masterson’s money.”

“And AJ would kill you,” Ty added. “She thinks Masterson is poison.”

“What other choice do I have?”

“Call AJ. Get her permission for him to spend the night with his friends at my mom’s house. Every kid his age goes on sleepovers during the summer vacation, why can’t David?”

Elizabeth doubted if that was exactly what Judge Mabry had in mind, but it was worth a shot. She dragged out her cell phone and tried AJ. No answer; it just rang and rang, didn’t even go to voice mail.

She hung up and was about to try again when Ty’s phone rang. “David, slow down,” he said after listening for a moment. “What? Mister who? Okay, we’re on the way.”

“What was that all about?” Elizabeth asked.

“David. He thinks he figured out what happened to Flora and Jeremy.”

Jeremy leapt up so fast the rocker banged back into the window shutter. “Great. Let’s go.”

“You can’t, Jeremy. Judge’s orders. And neither can I,” Elizabeth added with regret. She hadn’t realized how quiet having a day without either AJ or David around could be.

“Well, no one can stop me,” Ty said, climbing to his feet. Nikki did the same, ears perked with anticipation. “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

“Keep an eye on David,” Elizabeth said.

“I will.” He and Nikki drove away but Elizabeth couldn’t stop staring after them. AJ was the one who got premonitions, who trusted her gut instincts, but suddenly Elizabeth had a feeling that something very bad was coming.

Then she spotted Frank Palladino’s pickup turning down her block. He pulled to the front curb, rolled down his window, and waited for her to come to him.

“I’ll be watching over David tonight,” he said once she was within hearing distance. “First time in thirty-two years of marriage that Edna and I been separated, I’ll have you know. Tell the boy I’ll be there end of shift.”

His delivery was gruff, mitigating any sense of gratitude Elizabeth might have had. But she remained diplomatic—after all, it would be AJ paying the price once she was back home. “Thank you, Mr. Palladino.”

Jeremy leaned out over the porch railing, head cocked up as he scanned the sky. “Do you smell smoke?”

TWENTY

Grandel dismissed me, and I headed out to the parking lot to retrieve my travel pack with the dreaded power suit and heels stuffed inside. I was so focused on not looking forward to this damn press conference that I almost didn’t notice the heat trying to broil me alive as I walked down the concrete path. No meandering around the riverside road this time—I wanted to grab my stuff and get back inside the air conditioning as fast as possible.

I’d just reached the second perimeter fence when I saw Morris, head down as he stared at his bright green handheld computer’s screen, wandering along the inside of the fence.

“Hi, Morris,” I said as I joined him. “What are you doing?”

He frowned and didn’t look up, still squinting at the screen. Like me, he had no sunglasses, so he shielded his eyes with his hand. “Kermit says we got another perimeter alarm, but this one is different. It’s moving.”

“Moving? How can that be?” I glanced up and across the parking lot. The only movement I spotted came from the other side of the outer perimeter, where the protestors were congregated. “Could it be someone in the crowd?”

He shook his head. “No, the sensors triggered were on this inner fence. Over near the river, then they moved this way, then—I lost it.” He kept walking until he hit the road on the outer boundary of the parking lot, then crossed over to where the fence followed the river. “Right here is where it started.”

I looked at where he pointed. It was high tide, and the water came up past the fence, seeping into the mud on this side. The mud looked churned up, like something had been digging.

As I crouched down to get a closer look, Morris crossed the road back over to the parking lot, following his phantom signal. I heard a faint skittering noise and looked around.

There, edging out from beneath a pickup truck two rows in was a very large claw. Attached to an even larger leg.

“Morris, look out!” I sprinted across the road.

Before I could reach him, the alligator lunged at Morris. He backed up, toward me, slamming into the hood of a car, tried to put it between him and the gator, but the gator simply took the direct route below the car.

Morris ran across the road, back to the riverside, with the gator in pursuit. The gator almost caught him, its jaws snapping inches away. Then it suddenly stopped, its tail whipping back and forth, and just sat there making this strange hissing noise like a teapot boiling over.

Morris backed away until he ran out of room, his back to the outer perimeter fence, the gator facing him head on.

David had had an obsession with gators a few years ago and we’d watched every Animal Planet and Discovery special on them at least twice. Those TV gators hadn’t acted like this one. They didn’t chase after prey, they waited in the water for dinner to come to them. Maybe this one felt threatened?

“You’re between it and the river,” I called. “Try moving to one side, give it room to escape.”

Morris gulped and nodded, sidling toward the corner of the fence that faced the outside where the protesters were. Worst came to worst, he could climb it.

At least I hoped he could climb.

The gator didn’t head toward the water now that its path was free. Instead, as soon as it caught sight of Morris moving, it swung its head and lunged again, a weird uncoordinated lurch that was fast but still missed Morris, like the gator was drunk and not seeing straight.

Morris was pinned against the fence. There was no way he could turn his back to the gator long enough to climb it—it would be all over him.

“Stop,” I called. “Don’t move!”

Gators had two blind spots, I remembered. Directly behind them and directly in front of them. I crept up within a few feet of the gator.